


Obligatory Rooftop Scene

by Chocoholic221B



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Happy Bday, High School AU, M/M, One Shot, Rooftop scene, for fatfetus, pure fluff, talking about their futures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 19:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16310894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocoholic221B/pseuds/Chocoholic221B
Summary: Kurapika finds Chrollo on a rooftop. High School AU.





	Obligatory Rooftop Scene

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fatfetus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatfetus/gifts).



> This is for you, beefy! Happy bday and I hope you enjoy!

**Obligatory Rooftop Scene:**

He always knew where to find him. It wasn’t that Kurapika was a stalker, or particularly wanted to know exactly where the other was at all times, but his instincts always seemed to guide him straight into Chrollo Lucilfer’s arms. Whether he wanted them to or not.

Today, he did. And so, he’d bid his friends goodbye in the crowded cafeteria and headed toward the stairs to the rooftop. He met several of Chrollo’s friends along the way – five of them grouped together – and they didn’t speak to him, and he didn’t mind. Shalnark smiled in his direction as they passed each other in the hallway, and Kurapika smiled back. They both knew where he was going.

The hallways, save for a few stragglers, were empty. White walls filled with dark gray lockers and dotted with motivational posters passed him by. One proclaimed, “The Only Way To Fail Is To Never Try At All.” Another was very adamant about safe sex, and yet another screamed, “SAY NO TO DRUGS!” which was all well and good but no one really bothered to look at them when they had places to be.

Kurapika took long strides over the linoleum floors, his sneakers squeaking a bit as he walked a little too quickly. They were back, fluttering nervously in his stomach, and a year ago he might’ve worried that they’d rise up into his esophagus and spill out of his mouth. Not anymore. He was used to these butterflies now, his elevated heartbeat, this warmth spreading through his body. This excitement.

He squelched it. Kurapika knew what caused them, but he wouldn’t let these physiological symptoms show on his face.

The door appeared. It was made of heavy metal and was every bit of an eyesore as you’d imagine. The amount of strength Kurapika had to use just to open the damn thing was ridiculous, but it was where the best view in the entire school could be found. It was where Chrollo would be.

The boy made his way up the cement stairs, steps echoing. The passageway to the rooftop wasn’t heated, and the closer he got to the exit, the colder it became. He slouched, wrapping his arms around himself as the chill ran up his spine. Reaching for the silver knob, he felt that warmth rush through him again, but it was washed away by freezing wind as soon as he pushed the door aside.

It was bright. So bright he almost looked away. A carpet of snow gleamed with the rays of the noon sun, which beamed proudly at its highest peak. Kurapika wished he’d brought sunglasses.

His breath condensed in the cold air, forming tiny billows of white. He moved his hands up to his face to warm them a bit. Eyes surveyed the area for a figure in black, but all he saw was more pristine snow and gray cement. Had he been wrong?

“You’re late,” teased a sing-song voice. Kurapika pivoted around on his heel, accidentally slipping on the thin sheet of ice that lay below the snow. Chrollo caught him easily, bringing him closer, his breath hot on his cheek.

Under normal circumstances, Kurapika would’ve jumped two feet away from the young man, what with his tendency to take advantage of their proximity. Not today. Today, it was freezing, and Chrollo was warm.

“Cold?” Chrollo asked, his hands tracing circles on his back, warming him up somewhat. “You should write one of those complaints. Get them to make warmer school uniforms.”

Kurapika shivered, “th-they said th-they di-didn’t have e-enough resources. We–we should stay in school in order to stay warm.”

“Good to know they’ve got their priorities straight,” Chrollo mumbled, and Kurapika knew he hadn’t misheard the bitterness in his voice. The other boy let go of him and shrugged off his blazer.

“You’ll catch a cold –” Kurapika protested, holding out his arm to shove it away. Chrollo advanced.

“Don’t worry about me,” he insisted, as Kurapika dodged his blazer again and again. “Kura, hold still.” The boy locked him in another embrace, his chest pressed firmly against his back, and Kurapika felt that heat increase tenfold.

“Let go!”

“Wear the coat!” the man retorted.

Kurapika shook his head, clenching his jaw to swallow a giggle that threatened to erupt. Chrollo’s hands traveled closer to the belt of his school-issued trousers. Kurapika slapped it away before it could settle there, but Chrollo grabbed onto his hand and brought it to his lips, trailing kisses from his fingers to his knuckles.

“I suppose I’ll have to take more drastic measures to keep you warm, then,” Chrollo whispered, huskily.

The boy swallowed thickly, and when he spoke, his voice was miraculously even. “Or, we could go inside.”

Chrollo shook his head, tightening his grip, placing his head in the curve of his neck. “No, I like it here. It gives me an excuse to hold you.”

Kurapika scoffed, looking down at his damp shoes. “As if you need an excuse.”

He laughed, and Kurapika’s breath hitched. Chuckles and snorts, he was used to by now, but his laugh still made Kurapika's heart clench with joy. His face shifted to the side to get a good look at him. A smile had grown on his face now, a warm, tender thing. Silver eyes crinkled at the edges, and Kurapika could tell this was genuine.

“Chrollo,” he spoke, raising his hand to caress his face.

He was so beautiful.

. . .

He was so beautiful.

Chrollo had always found him positively radiant, whether it be in the horrible lighting of the school, or in the brilliant rays of the sun. His blonde locks never lost their shine, his pale skin was perfectly smooth, and his eyes, how could you even begin to describe those eyes. Kurapika had a sure case of cat eye syndrome. They were almost eerie, a rusty brown, his gold lashes thick around them. You couldn’t help but stare.

Kurapika brought his lips to Chrollo's, and they were cold and chapped and perfect, and Chrollo returned the kiss with fervor.

And to think, when they first met, Kurapika was merely another useless human trotting through life in his eyes. How had Chrollo fallen so hard? How had he let himself fall so hard? How had the other members let him fall so hard?

“Mmph, Chrollo,” Kurapika squeaked, his lips vanishing, catching his wandering hand. “Don’t you dare.”

Chrollo pouted, pressing their foreheads together. “You’re no fun.”

Kurapika poked his chest. “And you’re a pervert.”

Chrollo nipped at his neck, gently. He smelled sweet, his hair soft against Chrollo’s cheek. Kurapika no longer felt cold to the touch, his cheeks flushed.

The other boy’s stomach growled suddenly, and Chrollo laughed. “Sounds like you haven’t had lunch yet.” He didn’t want to let him go.

“No,” Kurapika said, stepping away and sliding his bag off his arm. He took out a sleek, black box and slipped the lid off to reveal some beautifully crafted onigiri.

“Thank you, Mr. Kurta,” Chrollo sang, helping himself to one of the rice balls. Kurapika’s father was a well-known chef, and Kurapika, being his son, was around delicious food year-round. His boyfriend was not so fortunate. Chrollo was an orphan, and the best food he’d ever had was either charred or sad-looking, often both.

They sat on a cleared bench, shoulder to shoulder, Chrollo’s blazer around Kurapika’s shoulder, keeping him warm. Chrollo’s eyes glued themselves to the cityscape in front of him. He almost missed the way Kurapika was staring at him.

“It seems I’m not the only perverted one here,” he teased, and Kurapika’s pink-tinged cheeks flushed further, but there was a smile on his face now. The boy looked away, and Chrollo raised an eyebrow.

“I can hardly believe we’ve been together for nearly two years,” Kurapika murmured. “We’ll be graduating soon.”

Chrollo managed a small smile, feeling bittersweet, melancholy even. “So it would seem.”

“Are you still planning to go overseas?” Kurapika asked, placing his head on Chrollo’s shoulder. The wind tossed his hair in waves, and Chrollo’s blazer was loose around him. Chrollo tore his eyes away from the beautiful student.

“Yes,” he replied. They’d had this conversation before. When he’d told Kurapika the first time, the boy had started gradually avoiding him.

_“I need to forget you.”_

_“I won’t let you.”_

What a night that had been.

Kurapika eventually stopped trying to break his fall, focusing on spending each moment they had together to the fullest. But Chrollo could still see it biting away at the boy. Hell, it was biting away at both of them.

“I want us to go somewhere,” Kurapika blurted out. Chrollo turned at the sound of his adamance. The boy’s hands gripped the bench on either side.

“Somewhere?” Chrollo asked, eyeing the boy cautiously. “What do you have in mind.”

“I don’t know,” Kurapika admitted, averting his gaze to a nearby snowdrift. “Somewhere warm?”

Chrollo grasped his chin. “Kurapika, do you even hear yourself? You have entrance exams.”

“After the exams,” Kurapika continued, and when he reached out to take Chrollo’s hand it was shaking. Maybe his was, too. “During the summer. Anywhere you want.”

He raised any eyebrow, as unwarranted thoughts ran through his vision. “Anywhere?” Color rushed to the boy’s cheeks, as Chrollo leaned forward.

“Well,” he began, placing a hand on Chrollo’s chest. “Not anywhere. Obviously . . . not anywhere.”

Chrollo felt a smile spread across his face. “How about you choose?”

“Me?” Kurapika asked, incredulously.

“It’s your idea.”

“It’s your gift.”

Chrollo wrapped an arm around his waist. “I don’t need anything else. You’re enough for me.”

“Thanks for the objectification,” Kurapika drawled, unimpressed. “I have a list of locations we might want to try out, but I really want this to be something you enjoy.”

“Paris,” Chrollo replied, after much silence. Kurapika gave him a quizzical look.

“Paris?”

“You don’t want to?”

“No!” Kurapika said, taking his hand again. “Yes! Yes, I do! That’s perfect. I’d love to go. I just didn’t expect it. And I’m not sure where we’ll get the money.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Chrollo reassured.

Kurapika rolled his eyes. “It’s not a gift if you have to buy it yourself.”

“Picky, aren’t you?”

Kurapika sniffed, haughtily, biting into another onigiri. “It’s not my fault I have such distinguished tastes.” Silence settled over them, as they sat tangled together comfortably. Chrollo searched his mind for another option. Something they could both enjoy.

“I want to have you to myself,” Chrollo spoke, kissing his temple. “How about you let me take you to our summer home for a month.”

“A month?” Kurapika squeaked. A whole month alone with Chrollo in some forested part of the countryside brought with it a slew of implications. He’d be lucky if his parents even let him go.

“You don’t want to?” Chrollo asked. Snow had started to fall from the heavens, catching in the golden web of Kurapika’s hair. The boy licked his pink lips, and then leaned forward, gripping his arms. His kiss was all the answer Chrollo needed.

They parted for breath, and Kurapika was looking down at him. He was on his knees, on top of the stone bench, his cheeks and nose colored red, his arms wrapped around Chrollo’s neck. Kurapika kissed him lightly on the forehead, then on his cheeks, his nose, and finally his lips. Chrollo’s arms tightened around his waist, pulling him close enough to feel his rampaging heart.

“Chrollo,” Kurapika whispered, headily, bowing his head. His breath tickled his ear. “Can I come over tonight?”

Chrollo buried his face in his neck, and smiled. “Let’s save it for the trip, yeah?”

Kurapika slapped his arm. “I meant to study.”

“Sure, you did.”

Kurapika rolled his eyes, but snorted and placed his head on Chrollo’s shoulder, content despite the freezing weather.

It was getting warmer outside, slowly but surely, and Chrollo couldn’t help but look forward to summer for once.

A whole month, huh?

Chrollo intertwined their hands, daydreaming about a red velvet box sitting in his desk drawer. Inside it, a ring. It was only a matter of time.

  
**. the end .**


End file.
